I had this conversation with my brother:
A: So, I wanted to make an egg sandwich to take to work because eggs are cheap and I'm out of lunch meat. But you can't take a fried egg in your lunch. So I boiled one and chopped it up and to make it all stick together, I added some mayo. It was really good!
Me: No kidding?
A: I don't think I've ever heard of anything like that before, have you?
Me: Noooo--nope. What do you think you're gonna call that? Egg salad, maybe?
Me: Yeah. You totally invented that.
The fact of the matter is and I don't know what the latter is, oh no way. You see I always wanted to kiss you but I always wanted to run from you. Because I always wanted to miss you. And I, always wanted to come for you...
It's been brought to my attention that Gavin DeGraw has a new album. So, when Chariot came out in 2003 I bought it on a whim and didn't expect much. I bought it on the same day that I bought my very first Jason Mraz cd--which was also a whim. I never, ever buy more than one cd at a time because I like to give it my full attention. You know--take it out to dinner, maybe a movie, always a midnight stroll. Light a fire and pull it out... I'm just saying, things get intimate. I don't want to clutter up the romance with a competing cd. But I did this time and Gavin and I got very serious very quickly. I didn't go anywhere near Jason for about a week or two. I thought Chariot was one of the most brilliantly written albums I'd heard in a long time.
So when his self-titled album came out the summer before last, I was, needles to say, thrilled to see what beautiful songs he had to sing to me. Turns out--the whole damn album was pure money-crap and he but What's Her Name from Laguna Beach in the video for the one song that got air-play. I was pissed. Therefore--today I feel a little more hesitant to jump back into such a hopeful relationship with one that I'd known so wildly. Oh Gavin--don't you sell out on me again. Ball's in your court--if you want to hook up with me again, you're going to need to be the one to call me. And following me on Twitter doesn't count.
Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at. Maybe you would have been something I'd be good at. But now we'll never know, I'll start to wonder if this was the thing to do.
You know how there's always that one person at work who smells terrible? Maybe you don't, maybe it's just me. Anyway, I'm fairly certain that people who work in food service should, in all circumstances, smell nice. And if not nice, then at least neutral. The last thing that a person wants a whiff of before going to town on a Turkey Ruben is an unprotected armpit or a dirty t-shirt that has obviously been sitting next to a damp towel for a week and a half. But imagine, just imagine, working along-side a person who is currently suffering from both--both of these situations. Like dishing up broccoli soup isn't bad enough, I have to do it while standing next to an unkempt walking locker room. This person is my superior. She's younger than me. She's a girl. And she smells. And on top of that:
Smelly Girl: So I sort of think that Jason Mraz is kind of a total rip-off of Jack Johnson only not as good.Have you ever found yourself doing that thing where you're not really changing your facial expression but you're suddenly very aware of the fact that you haven't blinked in about 19 seconds? She continues, "and plus I've seen him live, like, twice and every time he is so totally stoned." This girl went to KU for two semesters. Granted, while that's not a long amount of time--I've spent probably a total of 8 days in Lawrence, Kansas and have yet grown very accustomed to stoned people serenading you all over the place and I find it--at the very least--charming. And I've never heard any of them skat. Jason. Now, Jason skats. He makes a trip to Subway (the sandwich shop, not the public transportation system--although he could probably do it for that, too) sound like sweetest sex the world has ever known. Jack Johnson doesn't skat. And Jack Johnson is, like, 5'4". Jack Johnson wants to change the world with his ukulele. Jason wants to wear a straw fedora and see my tattoo and, frankly, I'm down with that. I'll even buy lunch.
Don't get me wrong--Jack's great. I have... the majority of his albums. He's inspiring and sweet and syrupy but these two gentlemen have nothing to do with one another. And you know what--even if they did sound similar, which they absolutely do not, what gives? People sound similar all the time. It's called a shared market. Wash your laundry. Wash your hair. And have correct opinions.*
Anyway. Sorry I end up talking about Jason Mraz all the time. If it's not him, it's Anne Lamott. It really is. Sorry. It's just that they're both pretty influential when it comes to values that I hold most deeply (also, I would buy either of them a sandwich if the situation arose). Music and books. Yep. I'm the kind of girl who has imaginary friends.
I'm starving. I'll go to bed.
*Yes. I know it's ironic to say "have correct opinions". You see, it's funny.